Contact
by puppypersonLOTR107
Summary: Elphaba thought-fic; between Acts 1 and 2. An excerpt from her isolated couple of years there. Oneshot. Elphaba/Glinda friendship, early Fiyeraba.


Disclaimer: I don't own the lovely characters of the Wizard of Oz, nor those of Wicked. Were you actually surprised? If you were, you should tell me. Then we'll both be surprised. It'll be like a party.

A/N: Well, this is musicalverse, plus book-Elphaba's water-allergy. I just find that fascinating. Between Acts 1 and 2. Mmmmm….guess that's about it. Read on, if you so choose. :)

Kneeling, she gazed into the water as it rushed by. She smiled grimly; the irony of the beauty she found in running water was not lost on her, considering the effect that water would have on her if it came into contact with her skin.

It was not the only irony that plagued her thoughts.

All her life she had craved human contact; she realized that now. She had learned so early in her childhood that she was not worthy of such a thing that she had scarcely been aware what it was she felt was missing in her life. The child she had been learned to go about her tasks as efficiently as possible; unfeeling, unthinking beyond the level of coordination which was necessary for the housework which were her responsibility. What books she managed to get her hands on filled her mind with wonderful, amazing thoughts; so far removed from her daily drudgery as to hardly seem as though they could be real. Watching the interactions among the rest of her family (such as it was), the affection that was exchanged between them seemed just as far removed as the tales of the books she'd read. If not more so. For who could ever look upon such a strange, green child with anything but disgust? None could ever think to touch such a thing in kindness, let alone out of affection.

Then one day, nearly grown and a student at Shiz, Elphaba had ventured to attend a certain cultish social gathering known to some as a party. Why? She hadn't been entirely sure – but afterwards she realized that it had been the first event of its sort to which she had received any type of invitation. Galinda had seemed to assume that her roomie would attend, and even gave her a gift. This was an occurrence far outside of Elphaba's experience, but by this point she had read enough books and observed the other students at Shiz sufficiently to have some knowledge of social etiquette and proceedings. The corner of her mouth twitched; the best imitation of a smile that had graced her face in months. She'd been mistaken, that night so long ago. But after the humiliation of attempting to dance – alone, without music – her blonde roomie had appeared by her side. Few enough people approached her of their own accord; she'd been uncertain how to respond. But she had been drawn into the dance created by the little blonde girl, and then she'd felt her hand enclosed in Galinda's. The most beautiful and popular girl on campus was paying attention to her; it was well beyond anything she'd experienced up to that point in her life. And Galinda never did anything halfway. After the party, Elphaba's roommate had not only christened her Elphie and given her an enthusiastic makeover of sorts; she'd also attempted to absolve her of the guilt the green girl had borne for so many years. And…perhaps Galinda had little idea how her actions would be perceived, but as the blonde girl hugged, dragged about, and attempted to improve the green girl's looks, she unthinkingly and generously provided Elphaba with more human contact than she'd had since she was old enough to care for her own basic needs.

The next day, as if Elphaba didn't have enough to mull over, fate had shown her a sort of touch that meant something different entirely. Elphie had never fantasized about boyfriends or lovers as a child; who would love a vegetable? The idea was patently absurd. So when she'd impulsively run after Fiyero, clutching his hand – the sensation was wholly foreign to her. She – she liked it. But it scared her. Then – she'd touched his face, with the slightests of fingertips – and he'd fled. She hadn't known what it meant. But she was a bright girl, if nothing else. In the split second after he caught up the lion cub's cage (that wretched invention), she'd realized what this could mean, and for a moment she had hoped; she called out…

But it was not meant to be. For a moment, later, at the train station, she'd thought she saw something in Fiyero's eyes…something she thought might have meant…but then he was gone.

And now? Smoothly, the green witch rose to her feet. Sparing one more glance into the depths of the river before her, she spun one way and then the other. Crouching slightly, eyes wide and ears sharp, she took in her surroundings and determined that she was still alone. She had not been discovered in her ill-advised moment of reflection.

Swiftly, purposefully, she continued along her path. She had arranged a meeting of a select group of Animals that had placed themselves under her leadership. It would not do to keep them waiting, considering the risk they were all taking in gathering at all. She had trained her senses well enough by now that she could trust them to alert her to most sorts of danger, so she allowed her mind to wander briefly once again.

How long had it been? A few calculations later, and she determined it had been just past two years since she'd left Galinda – Glinda – that day in the attic of the Wizard's palace.

Two years since she'd been touched by a fellow creature. The Animals she helped were grateful to her, of course, and she had earned a certain degree of trust from a select few. But most of the poor creatures had been persecuted so badly that they weren't willing to take a chance on letting their guard down around this strange green girl, even if she did seem to be earnestly helpful to their cause. She had a cause and a purpose, but it had not provided her with friends. She was an asset to the Animals, but a risky one, in their eyes.

Besides, they could not have known how she secretly longed for contact. One cold, dark, stormy night not long after she'd first flown, Elphaba had felt as though she would explode with the longing she felt for the feel of the hand of Fiyero or even Glinda in her own. She'd screamed her frustration into the echoing thunder into the night, but as morning dawned she'd come to a conclusion, and made a resolution accordingly. To despise the very thing she longed for, and thereby release her from the hold it had over her emotions. For emotions were something she could not afford. So she'd practiced; whenever she'd come into contact with another person or with an Animal in the next months (rare as it was, and always accidental or a result of some conflict or other), she'd trained herself to twitch away. So now she had succeeded; she could reminisce ruefully on the irony of the situation without feeling the sense of loss that had so overpowered her earlier in her exile. She rejected the very thing she most longed for, since it was something she knew she could not have.

In the same way, she longed to feel the freedom of floating down the stream with the water that seemed so carefree and joyous as it tumbled along its merry way.


End file.
